You Found Her Then, You'll Find Her Again
by giraffeseattrees
Summary: In a series of moments throughout her life, Santana finds Brittany again and again. With the Karmic Universe pulling the strings, will things ever work in her favor? Five part series.
1. Seven

**Chapter 1: Seven**

 _You found her when you were seven years old._

Dance lessons wasn't your first choice, but your parents signed you up for it anyways. Of course, the reason you were reluctant was because you knew you would have to attend your abuela's dance studio. You're pretty sure your parents viewed your lessons as free babysitting, but soon after your first session you felt a real connection to the movements.

Dancing became a special place for you. A chance to feel free, as free as a seven-year-old could feel. Even if your abuela was there judging you, critiquing your every move, nothing else mattered when you're gliding across that room.

You're waiting around the studio for your lesson to start when the door next to you suddenly flies open and the previous class begins to make their way out. It was a higher-level class than your beginner one, you could tell as much by the slight age difference and the way they carried themselves. Like they were too good for you.

When most of the students leave the room, your abuela excuses herself to the _little ladies' room_ and tells you to go in to start stretching. As soon you make it through the door, something catches in the corner of your eye and you do a double take. Once your eyes focus, you find blonde hair and blue eyes so vibrant that you stop walking completely and turn to face her fully.

It begins as a gentle pull, this energy that overcomes you. It's not exactly physical, but you can feel it, anchoring you and bringing you in. You don't quite understand why. This feeling, this urge, it's foreign to you, so you resist it. Not trusting.

Instead, you stand there, unmoving yet not even attempting to hide your curious eyes. The blonde, she notices and returns your staring with a polite smile. It's soft and small, and you do your best to mimic it back to her. The anchors deepen, and the pull strengthens. You're confused because she looks about the same age as you, but she was obviously in the class before yours. Before you find your voice to speak, she turns away, grabbing her bag from the floor next to you and walks out of the room.

You're left stunned, and sort of... skeptical? You question your reaction, the way she stopped you in your tracks and drew you in. The whole exchange, it was merely a few seconds, a simple glance, but you felt _different_ now. Somehow, after one glance, you needed more. You couldn't explain it.

But then again, at seven, you can't really explain a lot of things.

Thankfully, your abuela walks in, and you shake it off, both physically and mentally. You chalk it up to your seven-year-old desire to make a new friend. You decide then that the next time you see her, you'll definitely, _definitely_ say hi.

The universe, however, had other plans for you. Not only was this ' _mystery girl_ ' already gone by the time you showed up to session the next week, you are currently running late once again. Well, your parents are the ones running late, but that includes you by default.

The past two weeks felt especially long. You're pretty sure you're getting karmic payback for what you did to Rick _'The Stick'_ on the playground last week. You've tried to reason with everyone that it wasn't your fault he broke his arm. If someone was too scared to go down the slide, the honorable thing to do would be to help them get over that fear by pushing them _really_ hard. That way the ride is over with faster. You were only trying to help him.

You also maybe – _kind of, sort of_ – hated his new nickname and wanted to see him cry, just a little. But you'd never tell anyone that.

You tell yourself that today is the day. No matter all your bad karma, you _will_ see _'mystery girl'_ today. That is, if your parents can manage to get it together in time. At the very earliest, you might make it on time. Though, you continue to grumble to them that you had specifically requested to be early.

As it turns out, when you finally burst through the front doors of the studio, you don't see her. The previous class is long gone, and you feel a pit in your stomach as your eyes look into the dance room and land on the classmates you're forced to spend the next hour and a half with.

Your shoulders slump as you walk in and go straight towards the mirror, throwing your bag down next to the others. It isn't until you look up into the mirror that you finally see a glimpse of her blonde hair. She's sitting by the door and you must've walked right past her. You were probably too busy glaring at your classmates to realize it. Now, you're on opposite sides of the room and most of your view through the mirror is blocked by your classmates filling the spaces between.

You turn around to confirm it really is her and the bodies between begin to part – _the universe might have your back after all_ – creating an opening for your eyes to find her. She's sitting on top of the bench, legs swinging back and forth, talking with who you assume to be one of her friends. She must have felt your eyes because she looks up and finds you staring. Her eyes are so blue. Even from this far away. You take note at the way she softens, and the corners of her lips twitch slightly, just before looking away. She remembers you, and for the second time, you feel the energy surround your body. The pull.

This time, you won't resist it.

You steel yourself and slowly make your way to her. But almost like a learned reflex, her eyes knowingly fluttered back to yours and your body suddenly stops itself, as if you've been caught. You were so prepared, but now, you feel unusually nervous. It's nearly seamless, the way she holds you there with her eyes yet still continues her quiet conversation with her friend. It's also quick – you almost miss it – the way her eyes drop down for a second to take in your outfit.

Almost instantly you're struck with self-doubt, noting the bright, beaming colors of her dress, and the way yours is contrasted with all black. You hastily turn on your heels as soon as the insecurities settle just under your skin.

Your thoughts quickly fester there, feeding off of your imagination. _What if she doesn't want to talk to you? What if she hates your outfit?_ This girl practically _radiates_ brightness and even at age seven, you have a reputation of being the closest thing to a black hole. The insecurities, they bury deeper and reach your stomach, making you feel sick and changing your mind about wanting to be her friend. You aren't worthy enough to talk to someone like her. The chances of someone like her actually wanting to be friends with someone like you are probably close to zero.

You don't stay in this festered state for long because your abuela finally calls out the start of your session and you move to get into place. You try to put your mind at ease with thoughts of warm ups. You need to find your special place, where you're free from your self-destructive thoughts.

You're careful to avoid looking in her direction through the mirror and after warm ups, you feel better, tucked away free and safe in your special place. That was until her slight movement catches your eye and you see her staring in your direction. You glance around briefly but when you look back at her, her eyes are steady, fixated on you. She has no idea that you've caught her because she's not staring at you through the mirror, she's staring at your back. It's hard to read the expression in her eyes. It's as if she's judging you, watching your every move and just... _judging_.

The insecurities rush back, and they surge through your body, causing you to fault slightly in your positioning. When you get corrected for your mistake and your abuela looks at you with disappointment, you look up to stare daggers at the girl through the mirror.

But now she's gone. The feeling of irritation quickly erased, you spend the rest of the class searching for those eyes.

By the time the next lesson comes around, you're ready. You decide that you're going to march in there and talk to your blonde-haired, blue-eyed mystery girl. Not only are you extremely confused, you're also intrigued, and maybe even a little irritated. Why did she stare at you in that way? Why did you feel that pull towards her? You need answers and explanations because it was nearly impossible to not think about her the entire week. You just don't understand and it's making you almost mad now.

You strut into the studio with your head held high and you push down the voice in the back of your head telling you that this is a bad idea. You don't care anymore that you aren't good enough. You just want, no, _need_ to talk to her. You need your answers.

But again, the universe takes the reigns and changes your course.

Your abuela leaves the dance room, and signals to you that you can go in now. The moment you walk in, you become eerily aware of the fact that you might be a little too early this time. The class is still warming down and your sudden appearance causes a few of them to look your way. A small group of the older girls gather together and very obviously begin whispering to each other. When they glance towards you, they giggle. Not in that cute kind of way but more like in that mean girl kind of way.

And just like that, the room widens and becomes too big for you, the voice in the back of your head crash lands its way to the forefront. You can't breathe, and you need to get out but your legs, they refuse to move.

Then, the weirdest thing happens. Your blue-eyed girl moves from her spot, walks up to the group, and begins talking to them. You focus on your breathing and watch what appears to be an argument unfold. You see your girl frown and when she eventually points at you, you feel the burn of her gesture rip through your body. Your legs, with newfound strength, finally decide to move and you take a stuttered step backwards.

Just as you're about to turn around and make a run for it, one of the older girls step toward your blonde in an all too familiar way and you feel your whole body wakes up. Before you could think to stop yourself, you've already crossed the room.

But you're about two seconds too late.

Your girl, she's already on the floor by the time you have the older girl pushed against the mirror. This is a first for you. You've never reacted so quickly with physicality before but that's only because your words are usually enough to make most kids run away crying. But there you are, pinning a girl against the wall because you felt _it_. The urge – the pull – it rose rapidly from within you the second you saw someone threatening your blue-eyed girl. Unsure of what you've just done and the eventual consequences, you manage to push your weight off the older girl and she quickly runs out of the room with her friends. It's then that you realize your blonde-haired girl is still on the ground.

You turn around slowly and watch as she examines her elbow. It looks like a small bruise, a little raspberry scrape, but you can see the tears that are threatening to fall. You sigh, and lean against the mirror, waiting for her to look up at you. When her eyes find yours, you can't help but frown at the sight before you. Her bottom lip slightly trembling and jutting out just enough to form a pout.

"Are you okay?" You ask her, your voice soft, and she shakes her head slowly before quickly rubbing her eyes to wipe away a stray tear. She sighs then and leans backwards until her back lies flat against the dance floor. Your face scrunches up in confusion, but after a few seconds, you follow suit, scooting closer and laying down next to her in the same fashion.

"They were teasing you." She mumbles beside you and you turn your head to look at her. She keeps her eyes on the ceiling. "They called you a spoiled brat. That you're not even good at ballet and the only reason you're here is because your family owns this place."

You keep quiet. Not knowing what to make of what she's saying.

"So, I told them to shut up." She finally turns her head to look at you. "I told them you're really good in your level, and you're probably already better than them at some things." She pauses and lifts her arm to look at her elbow again, "And then she _shoved_ me." Her voice cracks and you can tell she's trying not to cry.

You sit up and shake your head, even more confused than you were before. You don't quite understand what happened. Why had she defended you? What was the point? You sit there watching her for another minute or so. She doesn't move from her spot but at least her quiet sniffling stops.

"Do you want to be friends?" You finally find your voice and your girl, she looks at you with soft eyes. "My name's Santana." You tell her, and something flickers in the blue.

"Brittany." She smiles widely at you and giggles, this time in the soft cute kind of way. You duck your head and turn away. You had to. Her smile, the full smile, it makes your checks twitch and the tips of your ears tingle. Combined with her blue eyes and her blonde hair, your girl, with the wide smile and the cute giggle, she makes you blush, and you _have_ to look away.

That was the last time you saw her as a child. You heard from a few others that she'd been moved up a class and now she was in a different time slot. For the next few years, you work hard to get better, to improve, so that you can move up there with her. It isn't until you're around the age of 10 that you find out what happened to your _'mystery girl'_.

Brittany no longer takes lessons. At least not at your family's studio. Suddenly, your special place, as free as it was, turned empty.


	2. Fifteen

**Chapter 2: Fifteen**

 _You found her when you were fifteen years old._

You're a sophomore in high school now, and if you thought seven was hard times, man, were you mistaken. Back then, the worst part of your day was helping your abuela mop the entire dance studio. Now, it's sitting through an entire Spanish class with a teacher who knows little to no actual Spanish.

You've also stopped dancing. Well, sort of. Once that light inside dimmed, your parents tried you out for gymnastics. Which brought you to where you are now, captain of the cheer team and overall HBIC. Also long gone are the days of insecurities, you've learned to build a protective shell around every fault. Sometimes though, you catch yourself thinking of dance again. How you were so determined to get better, all for _her_. For Brittany.

You figured it all out, by the way. The pull. You figured it out when you were thirteen and you received a kiss from another cheerleader during a game of spin the bottle. It felt as if a flip switched inside of you. The power turned on and all of the lights came to life. _You're attracted to girls_. And Brittany, sweet blonde-haired blue-eyed Brittany, was your first real crush.

You're not exactly out, yet. Lima, Ohio isn't really the most welcoming to _your kind_ , so you keep a lot of your personal life private. The whole secretly dating a cheerleader thing ran its course and eventually faded, but there's no hard feelings there. The girl may be at the bottom of the pyramid now, but that wasn't entirely your doing. It's not your fault she lashed out at Coach Sue after she broke down in the middle of a prep rally. Sure, she only broke down because you broke up with her, but still.

You just didn't feel the pull with her anymore. You felt it when she first kissed you, but even then, it wasn't the same. It wasn't as intense. It didn't encircle you in the same way as Brittany's did. It's sad, but even after all this time, you can't help but compare everything to her. She captivated you then. Completely. Eclipsing everything that comes your way and you let her.

And you've tried, _tried_ , to search for her, but your abuela kept horrible records. There were so many books to look through and even then, you could find only parents' names listed. You had no last name to go by. Just _Brittany_.

Somedays, you actually wonder to yourself if you've made it all up in your mind. If you've somehow only imagined it, those eyes. At this point, you wouldn't put it past yourself to have developed a brain that would do such a thing so cruel to you. Like some sort of _karmic payback_.

So, you'd given up searching about a year ago. Instead, you leave it up to fate and the universe.

"Santana?" You open your eyes and Mrs. Pillsbury looks at you with a raised brow. "Did you hear any of what I just said?"

"Not really." You say as you shake your head.

"Were you just… sleeping?" She asks you with a sigh.

You shrug as you answer her, "Yeah, probably."

Her mouth opens slightly in disbelief as you yawn and stretch your arms above your head. "How could you have fallen asleep? I was barely talking for five minutes."

You yawn again and slouch further into your seat as you groan loudly. "Lady, you called me in from the hallway and told me you needed me to run an errand for you. You were about to tell me what to do when you saw a spot of _god knows what_ at the edge of your desk. You've been mumble cleaning it for about," you glance at the clock above her, "thirty minutes."

"What!?" She spins around to check at the clock. "Oh my…"

You chuckle, "Yep."

"Why didn't you say anything, Santana?" She turns back to you and shoot her a look as if it's obvious.

"In what lame alternate reality would I ever pass up a free nap session just to sit in Spanish class and listen to your creepy husband ramble on?"

She doesn't seem fazed by the slight insult to Mr. Schue. If anything, you think you see her shrug lightly as if she were to agree with you. She sits back down and begins to straighten out the pile of papers in front of her. You smile at that and sink back further into your seat to find that comfortable position.

"No, No, No." Mrs. Pillsbury stops you and you groan again. "I won't be tricked a second time."

"There's maybe only fifteen more minutes of class," you try to beg, "Don't make me go. For some sick joke Mr. Schue paired me with JBI for our class assignments. Do you know what that's like? It's absolutely horrible. He stares at me the entire time. THE ENTIRE TIME."

"Relax, Santana. I'm not going to make you go back to class. I need you to run over to the auditorium." She says as she thumbs through some papers on her desk.

You sit up straight and begin to look at your nails. "Why? What's in the auditorium?"

She hands you a folder with some papers in it and you look them over. They're student transfer papers and a counselor evaluation form. You look back at her with a quirked eyebrow.

"Coach Sue requested for you to bring those to her." Mrs. Pillsbury tells you. "You should move quickly. You're already late."

"I can't believe she's just using me as a messenger. I'm the captain, not some lackey." You get up from your seat and scoff. "Being late technically isn't my fault so I'm taking the long way and I'm walking as slowly as I possibly can."

"That's fine, Santana." She waves you off once her eyes fixate on another spot on her desk.

You leave her office and make your way down the hall. You stop by the bathroom to grab a few paper napkins, wetting them first before shoving them into Rachel Berry's locker. You've known her locker combination for about two years now and she still doesn't know it's you that's doing it. You're pretty sure she thinks it's Fabray and that's just an added bonus.

You roam the corridors of the entire school, hall pass in hand from Mrs. Pillsbury, ready to fight off questions from any annoying teachers. Eventually though, you get bored, so you head to the auditorium. Since you went the long way around school, you enter from the audience doors, opposite the stage. When you walk in, you notice the lights aren't all on, save for the few pointing towards the stage. You don't see anyone. You think maybe Coach Sue might've left already, but then you hear them.

It's faint, but you can hear their voices just enough to follow the sounds with your eyes. You squint a little and find the backs of two blonde heads sitting in the front row, dead center. You recognize one of them as your coach and you roll your eyes. Great. Now you have to walk all the way to the front to deliver these to her.

You fall into step and slowly make your way down the auditorium. As you near, you begin to hear their conversation more clearly.

"You won't reconsider?" Sue asks, and the other blonde shakes her head.

"I'm sorry." The blonde sighs, "I know I gave you false hope by meeting with you here. But ultimately, it's not really up to me. My parents are kind of… particular."

Sue nods at that and you're actually surprised at how she's acting, it's not like her usual self. She's not being mean or degrading, it feels almost, warm.

"But I have a cannon that you would fit perfectly." Sue jokes, and it makes the girl beside her giggle.

The giggle. Your body reacts to it as soon as it reaches your ears. It ignites something within you and for the third time in your life, your legs stop working because of it. It can't be, can it? You're about 20 feet away and you allow your eyes linger. You can't see much because it's just the back of her head, but you think she could probably fit the right age. The blonde color of her hair might be a match too, but you don't know anymore. You don't trust yourself. It's been so long, and your imagination could have altered things.

You feel the nerves settle in slow and you shuffle your feet, a weak attempt to wake your legs. Your palms become clammy, and you try your best to discreetly wipe them along the sides of your Cheerios skirt. But your hands betray you as the folder slips from them and falls to the floor.

It doesn't take long for the two blondes to hear you stumble and turn around in their seats. You curse at yourself and quickly gather up the scattered papers.

"Sandbags!" Sue yells out and you pinch the bridge of your nose at the nickname. "Where the hell have you been? We've been waiting for you."

You stand then, slowly. When you're upright, your eyes flutter to the girl beside your coach and your breath catches. She's matured, but it's definitely her. _Brittany_. _Your_ Brittany. Your blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. Your eyes scan her features and commit them to memory immediately, not allowing even an inch of space to be taken over by imagination.

Because she's here. Twenty feet in front of you and you don't need to imagine anymore.

You step forward and remember who you are. You hold your composure and clear your throat, in an attempt to steel yourself. You need to play it cool. Her expression stays steady, and you wonder briefly if she's forgotten about you. The thought makes you ache, and you look for clues on her face in hopes of reading her, but there's nothing. No lip twitches, no soft eyes.

Her eyes, they follow you as you step closer, enchanting you, bringing you in. They've changed the most after all these years, but not in a bad way. They're deeper, and more… playful. Feisty. Catlike. They're harder to read.

When you finally stand before them, you have to tear your eyes away from Brittany to look at Sue. You hand Sue the folder and she scoffs, throwing it up in the air behind her.

Confused, you watch as the papers fall to the ground behind the two blondes. You're pretty sure you're going to have to pick those up later. "What the hell?"

"I don't need them anymore." Sue shrugs, "Britt isn't going to be transferring here anyways."

Your chest hammers at that thought. The transfer papers, they were for Brittany. The thought of being in the same vicinity as her five days a week makes your heart soar, but if what Sue said is true, that dream is already dead. Then you realize that all this time while you were nodding off in Mrs. Pillsbury's office, or roaming the halls, you could've been here. With Brittany. Your Brittany.

 _Fucking karmic universe_. You really need to start being nicer to people. If only you'd shown up on time. Maybe you could've done something. You could've helped Sue convince her.

"If it were up to me, I would." Brittany speaks, her eyes are still planted firmly on yours. "You have a great program here. It sucks we'll be competing against each other at Nationals."

Your eyes widen. "You're a cheerleader." You say, not really as a question but more of a statement and she nods. She's a cheerleader and you're a cheerleader. It confuses you though because she's a dancer. At least she was. All these years, your imagined her to be on a dance team or something. "I pegged you as a dancer."

It's a slip and you immediately know it. You're almost horrified at yourself but then you see it. A small twitch. At the very corner of her lips and you know. You know she remembers you. She must. She's careful though because within a millisecond, it's gone, and it was effortless. Her expression for the most part, unfazed. She's good, but you caught it. You're smug, and you don't even try to hide it. You've successfully read her in that moment, and you're proudly wearing your small victory on your face. She can see it in your eyes, you're sure of it.

"I'm captain of both the cheer team and the dance team at my school." Her eyes narrow as she leans back in her chair and crosses one leg over the other, challenging you. At the movement, your eyes follow down her body and _wow_ , her legs. The pull hits you like a truck but this time it's different, good different. She's already smirking when you find her eyes again, like she knows what she's doing to you. "Are you your team's errand girl?" Her head tilts just slightly enough for it to look like feigned innocence.

You blink, completely caught off guard. Sue's mouth opens in shock and even the sight of that throws you further. You stumble on your words because you can't process the change in emotion quickly enough. The way she sat back, with her legs, you felt so… but then she taunted you, and _no one_ taunts you. You aren't quick enough to quip back and Brittany's smiling widely now, her playful eyes in full effect.

It only makes you fluster more because you don't know whether to feel grateful that you get to see that smile again, her full smile, or upset that it was at the expense of an insult, directed to you.

Brittany's phone rings, and the sound of it pulls you back to earth. Reluctantly, her eyes break away and she answers the call. You know it's her mother from the way the she answers. You look at Sue, trying to communicate non-verbally, your eyes screaming, _what the hell was that?_

Sue just laughs and shrugs because really, that's never happened to you before, and she knows it. No one puts you in your place. No one except Brittany, apparently. Your Brittany.

"My mom is almost here," Brittany stands, and so does Sue. "I'm sorry again. Good luck at Nationals."

"Thank you, Britt. Good luck to you, too." Sue looks between the two of you and nods, "Ladies." She says before making her exit.

You're still standing there, dumbfounded, when Brittany looks at you expectantly. You're not entirely sure what she wants so you wait. For her cue, you guess. After you don't move, her features soften, and she chuckles, shaking her head.

"Still stuck?" She jokes, and she pushes your shoulder a little, making you take a step back. "I'm sorry I was mean to you." She offers, and you manage to smile at that, grateful for the release in tension. Her soft smile is back and now that she's standing, you get the chance to take in all of her.

She's taller than you now. Back then, you were both about the same height, but now she's got a few inches on you. Her hair is still as radiant as it was before but now with bangs slightly sideswiped across her forehead. It's also let down, falling past her shoulders in waves. You've always wondered what she would look like with her hair let down, and now you know. She's absolutely _stunning_.

After all this time, "Where have you been?"

Brittany blushes and ducks her head, scuffing her foot slightly against the floor, making you realize you said that out loud. It came out as a whisper, but she definitely heard you. You know she did from her reaction and the way she murmurs your name bashfully in response. _Santana._ You've never noticed till now that all those years ago, you've never heard her say your name and now that she has, you'll never forget what it sounds like.

Her cheeks, they're painted with the faintest of pinks. A special shade that makes you smile because you know that you did that. You secretly wonder if what she feels is similar to yours. If it feels like a pull for her as well? If it vibrates through every cell of her being like it does yours?

Brittany's phone buzzes in her hand, indicating to you that her mother has probably arrived, and she looks at you apologetically. You don't hide your frown and Brittany giggles at you. Her giggle, you commit it to memory too.

You shift out of her way when she starts walking but when she moves past you, you reach for her hand to stop her. She's surprised at first, but then turns to you. You don't let go. You don't actually know what you were trying to do because it happened so fast and you couldn't just… You needed to know.

"Am I going to see you again?" Your eyes are frantically searching hers, and she smiles, squeezes your hand. She lightly rubs her thumb across the back of your hand, soothing you.

"Definitely." She says softly, "Promise me, you'll find me at Nationals."

You had almost forgot she'd be at Nationals. Sure, she'll be your competition, but you don't care about all that now. Because you found her. Brittany. Your Brittany. You finally found her, and you'll do everything you can to find her again.

"I promise I'll find you." You tell her, and her smile widens. You let go of her hand and you watch her leave the auditorium before moving to sit in one of the seats. You still can't believe it. Your childhood crush, an old flame, reignited.

Four months later and you're cursing at yourself for not getting Brittany's phone number when you had the chance. It was right in front of you, in her other hand, and you failed to exchange digits.

So here you are at Nationals, and you have no idea how you're going to find her. There are literally hundreds of cheerleaders here, there's no way you'll find yours. But then you realize it. _Sue._ Sue would know what school Brittany attends at least. She had to have known what school she was trying to poach Brittany from. You can't believe you didn't realize it sooner.

"Coach!" You yell as you run past your team and towards the front, falling into step with the older blonde. "Coach, I wanted to ask you something." You tell her, and she eyes you from the side, but continues to walk at a fast pace. "Remember that girl you were trying to get transferred to McKinley?" You have to pause to breathe because now you're basically jogging alongside her.

You're also carrying an extra 25 pounds of weights in your backpack per Sue's orders, the whole team is. You're not sure why Sue has you guys conditioning at all times, like right now on the walk to the registration tables. You glance back at the rest of your lot and they look like they're dying.

Sue turns around but continues her walking, now backwards, and raises the megaphone to her mouth, "Let's go ladies! You think winning this is going to be easy? Pick it up!" When she's done she turns back forward, and you continue.

"Her name is Brittany. I was wondering if you happen to remember what school she was from?" You breathe, and Sue suddenly stops, making you stumble slightly forward before you catch your balance. The others behind you fall to the ground and exhale in relief.

Sue lets you catch your breath as she opens her bag and rummages through her various items. She pulls out a letter that looks kind of worn, but still very much intact. "Took you long enough. All you had to do was ask." She says as she hands it to you and continues her brisk walk. You look at your team expectantly but when no movement is made, you yell at them to hurry it along.

When the last of your squad is up and running after Sue, you examine the note carefully. It's small and folded neatly, in a way that you know Sue hasn't made any attempt to open it. On the front, a little scribble of handwriting. _Santana._

Your fingers graze over your own name and you already know who it's from. You wonder how long Sue has been carrying this around and why? You shake your head and smile at the piece of paper in your hands. It's funny because you can feel it, still. Not even in Brittany's presence, but it's there as you hold this letter, a letter that she wrote to you. The pull.

You open it carefully and your eyes dart across the page, taking in Brittany's handwritten letter.

 _Santana,_

 _Do you believe in fate?_

 _You asked me once to be your friend and I disappeared from you. I was never able to apologize to you for that. I also never got to thank you for trying to save me back then. To tell you the truth, because of you and what you did, it taught me to find the courage to start fighting for myself too. You'll be glad to know that I owe a lot of my feisty-ness to you._

 _Then, there you were in that auditorium, and I wasn't sure if you remembered. But you did, and you were so flustered I just couldn't help myself. I'm sorry for teasing you. I hope you weren't too mad at me afterwards._

 _Now, I find myself having to apologize for one more thing. I'm sorry but I won't be going to Nationals this year. I know I told you to look for me and here I go disappearing on you yet again, but this was never part the plan, I swear. There are some things that take more courage than I think I have._

 _I didn't want to make this long but I'm scared that this might be my last chance._

 _I need you to know that I feel it too. I felt it back then in my ballet flats and again in that auditorium. And I know you feel it too._

 _But you see, I also believe in fate. And the universe. And everything working out exactly how it's meant to be. And if this isn't meant to be, then at least with this letter, we'll both know that however fleeting this was, it was mutual._

 _I don't want you to look for me. I don't want you to wait for me. If it's meant to be, let it happen how it's supposed to happen._

 _Yours, Brittany_


	3. Twenty-One

**Chapter 3: Twenty-One**

 _You found her when you were twenty-one years old._

Your alarm goes off at 10:00 a.m. and you throw your pillow at your night stand, groaning at the noise. You had a long night, partying with your roommates at a local bar downtown, and the last thing you want to do right now is get ready for class. You have to blink your eyes a few times before the blurriness goes away. When you roll over, you reach for your phone to stop the annoying sounds that are assaulting your ears.

Pushing your legs off the bed, you sit up and flip your bedside light on. The light intrudes your dark room and you groan again.

"Santana," The girl in your bed mumbles and you turn to look at her, rolling your eyes. You obviously have a type. She's blonde, of course, but not _your blonde_. This girl is just another one of your one-night stands.

 _I don't want you to wait for me._

You think about Brittany's words and scowl. You hope that wherever she is, somewhere out there, she's just a miserable as you are. You've had a few decent relationships since officially coming out back in high school, but nothing worked out. It never does.

None of them had the same effect on you. None of them were Brittany. You try to ignore how sad it is that for the past five years, you've basically been pinning over some girl you barely know, and it's all because of some stupid _feeling_. And a stupid love letter.

You kind of resent her a little for jading you in this way. She's turned herself into forbidden fruit and now you only want her. It's like a constant craving and nothing else can fill that void. She turned into this irresistible, but unattainable being and it honestly kind of ruined you.

The worst part though, is that you let her. You didn't have to, but you followed her wishes. You didn't look for her. You didn't wait for her. You lived your life. But you still have her letter and every once in a while, when you're cleaning out your closet, you'll read it.

You did your best to stop yourself from fabricating a made-up image of her, what you think she's like now. You didn't want to taint your memory. You didn't want your desire for her to grow based on false ideals and imaginations.

"Come back to bed." The girl beside you pleads and you have to stand to move away from her arms as she reaches for you.

You realize still have last night's clothes on which you're actually relieved about because that means you didn't sleep with her. You probably passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow.

"I have class." You tell her as you move towards your dresser to grab fresh clothes.

The girl sits up and yawns, "You shouldn't have to go to class on your birthday. Stay."

You sigh, this part is never not awkward. But you don't really feel like beating around the bush. Especially not today, your birthday. "Look, I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression, but I'm not really interested in… _this_." You say and motion between the two of you.

It takes her a second, but she surprisingly takes the news well and just sighs. You thank god she's not one of the crazy ones and move to your desk to grab her purse, handling it to her so that she can gather her things. It's not long before she's walking out and you're shutting the apartment door behind her.

"Happy Birthday." You mutter to yourself before heading for the shower.

Once you're done in the bathroom, you walk out and see Mercedes slouching on the couch, her head in her hands and a glass of water on the coffee table in front of her. She looks up at you when she hears you chuckle.

"How much did we drink, and why?" She groans.

"A lot. And I'm pretty sure you and Tina are mostly to blame for that." You shuffle over and sit beside her, taking the water from the table and drinking some of it. You grimace as the liquid hits your throat, but you know you need it. Last night was definitely rough. As soon as it hit 12:00am, you were handed shot after shot. Your friends reasoned that you needed to 'catch up'.

"Yeah well, you only turn 21 once," She says, and you laugh. You rub her back to soothe her a little before heading to the kitchen for separate glass of water.

You make sure to stop by Tina's bedroom on the way to yours to check on her. When you turn on her bedroom light, she whines and throws a pillow your way. It doesn't reach far, and you smile as you walk in, placing the water on her nightstand. You chuckle to yourself when you hear her mumble a quiet _thank you_ just as you're walking out. Your friends really can't handle their liquor.

The rest of the day passes like it normally does. Nothing special. Your parents call you around lunchtime in between classes and you're glad to hear their voices. Ever since you've left Ohio for college in Southern California, they've been a little more clingy than they usually are. But you don't mind the attention. USC may be great and all, but sometimes you can get a little homesick.

Throughout the day, you receive Happy Birthday texts from your other high school friends in a group chat and you're glad that they still care about you, despite you being a total bitch to them for all those years. You've changed a lot since then. Even though you still cut people with your vicious words, it's usually done in defense of one of your friends. And although, you'd never actually admit it to them, you know they know how you feel. Yes, even Berry.

When you finally get home just after 4:00 pm, Mercedes is there waiting for you with a mischievous grin and her hands behind her back. You narrow your eyes at her as you put your bag down on the counter, "What did you do now?"

She smiles at you before bringing her hands forward and showing you three VIP tickets to an exclusive club downtown. At the thought of more alcohol, you groan and make your way to the couch, laying down and covering your face with your arm.

"Come on, Santana. You can't stay home on your 21st birthday. I'm pretty sure that's written as law somewhere. Especially if it's a Friday night." She tells you and move your arm to peek up at her.

"Mercedes, I don't know." You sigh, "I'm still recovering from last night."

"You've been moping about for months since your last break up and now that I got the ins to the hottest lesbian club in LA, you want to stay home?"

"I haven't been moping around," you frown, and she looks at you pointedly. "So, I may not have been the happiest, but it's not like I'm not getting any."

"Girl, you don't think I know that?" She laughs. "We share a wall." Her smile softens, "But you need _connection_ , Santana. You've always needed that."

"And I'm supposed to find _connection_ at a nightclub?" You laugh, and she rolls her eyes.

"No, but you can at least have a little fun." Another voice calls from the door and look up to see Tina smiling as she walks in. From the way they both were acting this morning, you wouldn't have thought they'd be so willing and able to go for round two.

It takes some convincing but eventually you agree to go out. Tina and Mercedes can hardly contain their excitement as you're all getting ready because really, they've been wanting to go to this club probably more than you do. You love a good time and all, but nothing good ever comes out of going to the club. You always wake up the next morning with a pounding headache, a lot less money in your bank account, and another random blonde in your bed. But, maybe this time it'll be different.

Oh, universe.

You make it to the club a little after 10:00 p.m. and your friends are jumping up and down the minute you all step through the doors. It was a breeze getting in, thanks to the VIP tickets that Mercedes provided to the bouncer. The entire space is covered with speakers and you can feel the bass pound heavy on your chest as Tina pulls you and Mercedes to the bar for a few rounds of shots, before you all make your way onto the dance floor.

It doesn't take you long before you begin to loosen up and start enjoying yourself. You're definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol and you're actually kind of glad that your friends dragged you out of the apartment for this. They were right, it _is_ your 21st birthday after all. There's something freeing about using a real ID instead of a fake to get in to places like this. Like you can fully let loose for once.

After more than an hour and a handful more of shots, Mercedes motions to you that they're going back to the bar to grab more drinks. You nod at her, letting her know you'll be fine on your own, and watch as she and Tina disappear into a sea of strangers. You're enjoying the music as you sway with the beat when strong arms suddenly wrap around your waist from behind.

The contact causes you to stumble forward but when their arms pull you closer, and your bodies collide, it makes your entire body shiver. "What the fu-"

"Do you believe in fate?" A female's voice floats to your ears and your eyes widen in shock. Your body stills. You can feel heavy breathing against the side of your neck as the body behind you continues to move with the music. Your hands find purchase on the arms around you and you can't quite explain the feeling of familiarity.

You must be drunk. You must be a little _too_ drunk because you don't know if what you heard is really what you heard. You can't decide if you want to turn around to look or not because you don't want to be disappointed when you find out it's not _her_. You tell yourself it's just not possible. How can she be here, in LA, more than two thousand miles away from the last place you've seen her? What are the chances?

"Santana," she breathes, and you know now that it's true. You still remember the sound of your name on her lips. She's really here, pressed up against your back and there's _so much_ _contact_. You want to turn around to finally look at her, to see how she's changed over the years, but her arms hold you there. "Not yet," She says as she quickly reaches up to move all of your hair to one side, exposing your neck to her. Her lips move to your ear, grazing them slightly before whispering, "Dance with me."

You almost growl. She has this effect on you and you can't control yourself. When her arms loosen around you and her hands find the curves of your waist, you push yourself closer to her, begging for more contact again. She takes the hint as one of her arms move up and across your chest to hold you there and your head drops back onto her shoulder, your eyes closed.

Brittany doesn't skip a beat. She moves her head down and her lips find your neck easily, exposed and waiting for her. It feels like ecstasy when she presses soft kisses to your pulse point. You feel her tongue dart out just a little and your hand flies up in response to run your fingers through her blonde hair. You can feel Brittany's grin against your skin just before she moves her lips back to your ear.

"You taste _amazing_ ," She whispers and just for good measure, she gentle nips at your earlobe with her teeth. You gasp for air and your knees almost buckle at the new sensation. How did you get this turned on this fast? You return the favor by rolling your hips back into her and you hear her inhale sharply, not expecting it. Her reaction makes you smirk, glad to know that you're both on the same page. That you have as much of an effect on her as she does on you.

She recovers from her misstep quickly and soon you both find a rhythm. It's sensual and sultry, and after confirming the very obvious mutual state you're both in, you don't hold back. If you weren't so drunk, you would think it's a bit too inappropriate as far as public displays go. You can't explain it, though. It's like the feeling, the pull, went from a flame to a five-alarm fire, engulfing anything and everything around you. All inhibition thrown out the window.

Brittany's hands take the time to explore your entire body and the only thought in your mind is the fact that you're jealous that you can't exactly return the favor. Not in this position. But once Brittany's fingertips find their way just inside the front of your top and onto your stomach, you don't stop the desperate moan that rips from your throat.

The sound, you're sure she's heard, spurs her on to explore more and soon flat hands begin to fully move across your tightened abs. "Brittany, please." You manage to breathe.

She suddenly lets go completely and you stumble back in confusion. But then you're being pulled by your hand off of the dancefloor and out of the club.

Once you stumble outside, you feel the cool air surround your body just before you're being pushed backwards into the brick wall of the building. Brittany's body holding you there. You barely have a second before she's assaulting your neck with open mouthed kisses. It makes you dizzy, and not because you're very clearly drunk on alcohol. You're drunk on Brittany. Your fingers find her hair again.

You try not to be disappointed when she slowly halts her movements and places a soft kiss to your jawline before leaning back. You're left breathless.

"Sorry," She breathes, "I just couldn't help myself." Her eyes a shade darker than you remember them being. "I hope that was okay."

"That was more than okay," You say as you smile up at her. Your hands rest on her waists and her hands move up and down your ribs, caressing you. Her face softens when you move a hand up to her cup her cheeks. You still can't believe she's actually here, in LA, right in front of you. You wonder if she lives in the area now. Or maybe if she's attending USC, same as you. Now that you've found her again, and she's here, maybe you can finally start something real. Your heart soars at the thought.

Your eyes dart across her face and you take everything in. She's grown up a lot since you last saw her. Her bangs are gone now, but her hair is still long and wavy. As she holds you there, you can feel how strong her arms are. Her face being so close to yours, you can finally see everything, tracing constellations with your thumb on her light freckles. You watch as her eyes roam your face and you wonder if she's doing the same as you, committing your features to memory.

"You're so beautiful." Brittany says softly, and you can see a flicker in her eyes. Her confession makes your heartbeat quicken. Your eyes drop to her lips and you watch as she licks them slowly. You think about how soft they felt against your neck and how you desperately need to know now what they'll feel like against your lips.

"I _really_ want to kiss you right now." You find your voice and you're surprised at how raspy it is.

Brittany looks at your lips and her eyes darken. But just before you can close your eyes and lean in, you feel the loss of contact on your entire body.

When you look at Brittany, she's a few feet away, looking at you and biting her bottom lip apologetically.

"God, Brittany. You can't keep doing this to me." You sigh, clearly frustrated at the way she's toying with you. It takes you a second to recover and you tilt your head back against the brick wall. It isn't fair. She obviously lost control earlier, you should be given the same opportunity.

She steps closer again, but this time moves to lean back against the wall beside you. "I know, I'm so sorry. I just- I don't want this to be-" she sighs. "We're both very drunk, Santana."

You look to her at your side and she's frowning slightly. You understand why.

She doesn't want this to be just another fling. You don't want to put her in that category either. She doesn't want to kiss you right now because it should mean something. Something more than alcohol and heavy dancing. It's the same reason you avoid kissing when you're with your one-night stands. You've always felt that a kiss was too intimate to do with a complete stranger, as fucked up as that sounds. You don't mind having sex with a stranger but kissing? _Big no-no_.

But Brittany also isn't a stranger to you. Sure, you know next to nothing about her, but at the same time you've known her for so long. It's a weird paradox you live in and you don't exactly know where you stand. You don't want her to think you're upset with her though, so you reach for her hand beside you, linking your pinky with hers. You give it a small squeeze and she looks at you with a soft smile.

"Britt! There you are!"

At the recognition of her name, Brittany turns away from you and looks at the small group of people stumbling out of the club doors. They look beyond drunk and to be honest, they don't seem like the kind of people you'd imagine to be Brittany's friends either. On second thought, they don't really seem like the kind of people that could even get into a club like this. They seem kind of… out of place. She turns back to you and your eyebrow is already arched in question.

"Looks like our time is up." She pouts, and you shake your head.

"Not so fast." You click your tongue. "You're not getting away that easy and I'm definitely not making the same mistake twice." You tell her and pull out your phone. When you try to turn it on, you get nothing but a blank screen. Of course, it's dead. Of course you were dumb enough to use up most of your battery playing music while you were getting ready earlier. You look at her expectantly, but she too holds up a blank phone screen.

 _Fucking. Karmic. Universe._

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." You exhale and Brittany giggles before pulling you off the wall and towards the club entrance.

Brittany's group of friends are off to the side and you get a better look at them. They don't look like the clubbing type. If anything, Brittany is the only one in her group that's actually dressed for the venue. But they look like they had a good time and they're all smiles and giggles as they wait patiently for Brittany.

You stand there watching as Brittany bats her lashes to the bouncers and asks them for a pen. They happily provide her with one and you're giddy with excitement. With pen in hand, she steps up to you and grabs your wrist softly. You watch closely as she quickly scribbles ten digits onto your forearm, nice and big so you'll be able to read it properly once you're a little more sober.

When she's done, she looks at you and you're pretty sure your smiling like an idiot. Big and dopey, completely unashamed. She chuckles at you and blushes.

"Goodnight, Santana." She smiles and places one last kiss to your cheeks before turning around and walking to her friends. You watch with a smile when you see her giggle shyly as they tease her with _oohs and ahhs_. They all pile into a taxi and you watch as it disappears down the road.

By the time you wake up the next day, it's already close to noon. You're lying in bed for a few minutes waking up slowly, when you suddenly remember the events of last night. You throw the covers off and sit up, lifting your arm as your eyes try to focus on the scribbles.

You can't believe it. You can't believe that after all these years, you've successfully obtained Brittany's phone number.

 _And it's mother-fucking smudged._


	4. Twenty-Five (Part One)

**Chapter 4: Twenty-Five (Part One)**

 _You found her when you were twenty-five years old._

"We're not going to make it." Rachel mumbles beside you and you turn to look at her before looking at your watch. The ceremony should be starting soon.

"We'll be fine, don't worry about it. There's a lot of bullshit in the beginning anyways." You pat Rachel on her leg to stop her nervous shaking and lean a little to look out the front window of the taxi. You hope you're right. The line of cars in front of you is long and seemingly endless. You'll never hear the end of it if you miss Quinn's graduation at UC Berkeley. You both flew up to San Francisco from Los Angeles just for it.

Your taxi moves another 10 feet before coming to a complete stop and Rachel sighs beside you. You feel bad. If you didn't insist on making an extra stop for some flowers, then you wouldn't be stuck in traffic. It's not your fault you didn't know that everyone and their mothers were going to this thing. You roll your eyes at yourself because, _hello_ , this is exactly the kind of event that everyone and their mothers would go to. Who wouldn't want to see their friend or family member walk across that stage and receive their diploma?

"I can't miss this one, too. She's only walking again because I missed the last one. She's going to hate me." Rachel looks at you with a frown and you feel even worse.

"Rach, she loves you. She's not going to suddenly start hating you because we were stuck in traffic. She'll understand." You try to comfort her. You know she's on edge, you can feel it in the air and she doesn't need to say anything for you to know she's at least slightly upset with you.

Over the past two years, you've gotten a lot closer to her. When Mercedes went on tour as a backup singer and Tina moved back to Ohio to take care of her mom, you thought you'd be all alone in California. But then, Rachel called you out of the blue asking if she could stay with you for a few nights. She'd been pursuing acting and was asked to come to LA for a chemistry read with another cast member. When she eventually landed the part, you refused to help her go apartment hunting and instead asked her to be your roommate.

It's crazy to think you went from shoving wet paper towels into her locker to late nights of helping her run lines. You've come a long way. You both have.

"I'm really sorry, Rach." You tell her, and she offers you small smile before telling you it's not your fault. You push down your feelings of inadequacy and pray to the universe that you make it on time. Grabbing your phone from your purse, you shoot a quick text to Mercedes to make sure she still has seats saved for you both. She responds quickly that she does and you're at least glad that something is going right today.

Thankfully, you make it to the ceremony just as they start reading the names of the graduates. You easily find your group of friends sitting in the section off to the side, still close enough to the stage. You exhale in relief when you see Mercedes fighting off some strangers that are trying to take the two empty seats beside her.

Quickly, you pull Rachel with you towards your seats and shoot a pointed glare at the vultures, causing them to back away. As you both take your seats you turn slightly to wave silently at the rest of your ragtag group of friends from high school.

It's been a few years since you've all had the time to get together again. Especially since you're all mostly scattered in different states now. But once everyone got word that Quinn was graduating with her master's degree and at least four of you would be making the trip to SF for the ceremony, it was decided that the special occasion would turn into a reunion/little vacation for everyone.

You sit back and exhale, proud to have made it here. Not so much in the physical sense - although you're happy to have made it on time - but just overall where you are in life. This definitely isn't where you imagined you'd be when you were a teenager. Looking back, you wonder what your 14-year-old self would think of your life now.

"She's standing!" Rachel squeals beside you and you have to squint a little to see Quinn as she stands from her seat and shuffles along her row, making her way to the stage. She turns slightly in place and your entire group already has their phones out, trying to get photos of the blonde in her cap and gown. You laugh when you can see Quinn rolling her eyes and turning back to the front, embarrassed at how we're all acting. It makes you smile because you realize that Quinn's come a long way too. The two of you ruled the school back then and not in a good way. If it wasn't for Glee Club and forming these relationships, you would've never changed your ways. You both would probably still be bitter, in the closet, and hating your lives right now.

"Santana," Mercedes whispers to you on the other side of Rachel. "Santana isn't this…" She hands you her phone and you look at the blurry image. It's a zoomed in image of the photo she just took of Quinn as she's waiting in line.

"Yes, Mercedes, that _is_ Quinn," You nod exaggeratedly, and laugh when she rolls her eyes at you.

"Fine, give me my damn phone back, good luck figuring out if it's your hot blonde club girl from this far away." She reaches for her phone and you quickly move it out of reach.

"Wait, what did you just say?" You look at her, your voice slightly louder now. Rachel shushes you and you turn to look at Mercedes phone one more time. You move your fingers across the screen and zoom in until you see her.

She's about 5 or 6 people behind Quinn. You can't really see much because of the quality but you think it might actually be her. You look up to find her with your eyes and toss the phone back to Mercedes without looking. Actually, the phone hits Rachel but you ignore the way Rachel gasps and Mercedes swears at you.

You easily find Quinn standing near the stage and trace the line of graduates backwards to find blonde hair falling from a black cap and instinctually begin to lean forward. You can't tell. Not from this far. But then the person beside her must've made a joke because you watch as she laughs, head fully back, and she steps to the side a little to do a little spin.

You almost yell for her right then and there. It's her. It must be. It has to be.

"Give me a program," You say, eyes not leaving the front as your hands swat Rachel next to you. She mumbles something under her breathe but you don't care because once the program is in your hands, you thumb through it quickly until you find the list of graduates. When you find Quinn's name, you move down until you see it. You look up to count the amount of people between Quinn and her and smile in confirmation.

 _Brittany S. Pierce._

It's her. You found her. Your blonde-haired blue-eyed Brittany. Nearly twenty years later and you finally, _finally_ know her last name.

"What's Santana doing?" You hear Tina ask and it wasn't until then that you realized you had moved to your feet. You quickly sit back down and mumble a quiet _sorry_ to the people behind you.

"Santana, I love you, but please focus. They're gonna read Quinn's name soon." Rachel elbows you in your ribs and you wince. You pull yourself together in time to yell and shout with everyone as Quinn's name is read and she steps up to receive her Diploma. She looks utterly embarrassed as she walks back to her seat and your laughing because even though you're all _technically_ adults, you'll never miss the opportunity to act like obnoxious children.

When you settle down, you shift your focus back to the front and find Brittany easily near the stage. When her name is read, you smile as she steps up, practically bouncing with joy. You can't believe it's really her. You remember how mad at yourself you were the morning you woke up to smudges on your arm. You remember yelling at Tina and Mercedes for not saving the number while it was still intact. You even went to the same club for months after in hopes of seeing her again, but you never did. And now, here she is. More than two thousand miles away from when you first found her, and more than three hundred away from when you last.

As Brittany walks back to her seat, her smile is wide and bright. She's glowing, and you feel so, _so_ proud of her. You look at the program and see the words next to her name. A master's in Computer Science. And with honors no less. Your girl is a straight up genius.

The rest of the ceremony is long, and you understand why Quinn didn't want to walk this time. You watch as she fidgets in her seat, most likely cursing at the world for how long it's taking to read all the undergraduates' names. You chuckle to yourself when you look towards Brittany and you see the person next to her nudge her periodically throughout, probably waking her up from dozing off.

As soon as the commencement is done, you make your way outside with the rest of your group to wait for the graduates to come out. You're nervous. You know you are because the first thing you look for besides the letter 'F' is the letter 'P'. You don't want it to be weird. Brittany probably hates you for never calling. She probably gave up on _whatever this was_ a long time ago.

Once a sea of caps and gowns start making their way out of the auditorium, it becomes pretty hectic quite quickly. When Quinn makes it to the 'F' section you give her a hug and congratulate her with the rest of your friends. You stand there awkwardly for a while, not knowing if you should be looking for Brittany or if you should be supporting your best friend. After about 10 minutes, you're standing off to the side when Rachel requests for a photo of you and Quinn.

"You can go, you know." Quinn whispers to you as you both pose for the photo. You look at her and she smiles softly. "Rachel told me you found her again." She looks at Rachel and winks before turning to you and hugging you. "Thank you for being here but you seriously need to stop standing there like you don't know what to do and go get your girl."

You don't need to be told twice. You kiss Quinn on the cheek and quickly make your way around the auditorium to the 'P' section. It doesn't take you long before you find Brittany. The crowds are bigger in this area and you can tell she's enjoying her time with who you think is her family and friends. You move to a nearby wall and lean against it as you wait.

You don't want to intrude on her celebration. You don't even know what you would say. You decide to take the time to think about it because you also don't want to come off as a creeper. When you glance up to look at her again, her eyes are already on you. Which scares you at first because she looks shocked to see you, but then her eyes soften, and her hand comes up to slowly wave.

 _Hi._

You read her lips as she says it and you give her a small smile in return, ducking your head to look away. You don't really know how to act. The last time you interacted you were both drunk but now, it's daytime and you're very, _very_ sober. Do you flirt? Do you act like old friends? Do you ignore the fact that your heart beats out of your chest every time blue eyes find brown?

Your nerves take over and you stay where you are, trying to slowly build up the courage to walk up to her. She looks so happy laughing with her family and taking photos. You feel like you've known her all your life but really, you know nothing about her. You've barely scratched the surface of who she is and you're starting to doubt yourself. What if you're holding onto something that's not actually there anymore?

When the crowd dies down a little more, you look up and you're surprised to see Brittany already walking over to you. The image makes your chest hammer uncontrollably, but you also can't help the smile that forms on your lips. You take a steadying breath and stand up straight to greet her.

"Were you not going to come say hi?" Brittany speaks first once she reaches you. It comes off as teasing, but something tells you that she's nervous too. Maybe just as nervous as you are.

"I didn't want to interrupt your family time." You shrug, and she nods slowly in understanding. You fall into an awkward silence and you don't know what you're supposed to do. Brittany glances back to her group of friends and family and you get the chance to fully look at her in front of you. She's wearing heels, causing her to look a lot more taller than you. When she turns back you get the chance to examine her features again. Her bangs are back, but this time they fall straight over her forehead, not swept to the side like they were when you were both in high school. They frame her face nicely in a more mature way but with a hint of innocence.

Brittany clears her throat when the silence becomes unbearable.

"So-" "How-" You both try to speak at the same time, but she shakes her head, allowing you to go first.

"Sorry, for not calling you..." You tell her, and her eyes move across your face, trying to read you.

"I just thought," she looks down a little, "I thought, maybe, you weren't interested anymore."

You shake your head at her words. She looks sad and you hate yourself for it. You can't stand the idea that all these years she thought you rejected her. You duck your head to look her in the eyes, "Brittany, I swear to you, the ink smeared. You've gotta believe me when I say I called every number it could've possibly looked like. I tried all of them. Do you know how many people I yelled at for not being you?"

That makes her smile and you're glad. "Yeah, but then just now-" her smile falters and she sighs, "We just keep missing each other. Like, what if I left too early today and you didn't find me in time." She shakes her head, "Maybe this just isn't written for us." She tells you and you suddenly find the confidence to reach for her hands, holding them in front of you.

"Well, _Ms. Pierce_ ," you smile at the way her eyes brighten to the sound of her last name coming from your lips, "Call me crazy but I've already done a thorough search of social media and found all your accounts. I know how to find you." You wink.

She smiles at first but then frowns. "Did you cheat?" she asks sheepishly. You're not even fazed by her question, you already know what she's talking about. She's asking if you cheated fate. If you only _found_ her by going against her wishes and going out of your way to look for her.

"No," You shake your head and grin knowingly, pointing toward Quinn's section, "I'm technically here for a friend. But then I saw you and I couldn't believe it." You hold up the ceremony program to her and point to her name, reading it out loud, " _Brittany S. Pierce_."

She blushes at that and smiles her full smile at you, making you melt, "Fate." She simply states and it's your turn to smile.

"Looks like it's meant to be after all." You tell her, and her blush deepens. You take a step closer, "Now, before you can run away again," you let go of her hands to grab your phone, "Can I maybe get that number one more time?" You smile, and she giggles as she grabs your phone from you happily. When she hands it back to you, you're practically beaming when you see the little red heart next to her name.

"I know you're probably busy today, but could I take you out to coffee or something sometime this week?" You ask after you quickly call her number so that she can have yours as well.

"Someone's eager." She teases, and you laugh.

"I'm only here for a few more days before I head back to LA." You explain, and she frowns, "And I'd like to think we deserve at least a proper date by now. The universe owes it to us."

Her frown disappears, replaced with another smile and you know you said the right thing. She seems to think about your words before she smirks down at you, making your heart skip a beat.

"On one condition." She states and your eyebrows arch in response. She steps closer to you and, instinctively you step back slightly, your heel hitting the wall behind you. You flush immediately, thinking back to the last time she held you against a wall. "Kiss me."

Your eyes drop to her lips when you see her tongue dart out to wet them, and you instinctively mimic her action. She doesn't wait for you to make the first move as she brings her hand up to palm your cheek, her thumb tracing circles there. The movement grounds you and you lean forward, placing your hands on her waist before tipping your head up, and connecting your lips to hers softly.

She takes your breath away and you let her. It isn't a long kiss. In fact, it's over pretty quickly but you're not disappointed. Not even a little. Not when you've finally found her. Your girl. Your blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. Your Brittany.

There's whistling going off in the distance and you turn your head to find your group of friends laughing and cheering in your direction. Brittany steps away from you in embarrassment and you throw a glare towards your friends.

"Please ignore my creeper friends." You tell Brittany, shaking your head.

She laughs at you and you watch as she and Quinn share a look before waving to each other. When Brittany turns back to you, your eyebrows are already knitted in confusion.

"You know Quinn?" You ask, and she nods, but before you can ask a follow up question, Quinn appears next to her.

"Wow isn't this a _coincidence_." Quinn laughs, and Brittany turns to her. You watch as a silent conversation takes place between the two blondes for about a minute before Brittany turns back to you with narrow eyes.

"So, you're the one that turned me down." Brittany cocks her head and your eyes dart between the two blondes. Quinn is almost mimicking her actions and you are so far beyond confused now.

"Santana," Quinn speaks, and you look to her for more clues, "remember about a year ago when I tried setting you up with someone and you refused to hear me out? Something about _staying celibate forever and all vaginas are the devil_."

You nod a little because yeah you remember but why is that important now?

 _Wait_.

"Don't tell me-" You start to connect the pieces and Brittany's arms cross playfully in front of her, a smirk forming on her lips.

"I can't believe you got my number a second time and you still never called me." Brittany gasps but you can see the smile in her eyes. Quinn clicks her tongue at you and shakes her head in disappointment. You're completely speechless. You remember Quinn giving you the phone number of the girl, but you wouldn't take it. You didn't even let her tell you her name because you were swearing off dating completely.

"You should've told me her name was Brittany!" You find your voice, scolding Quinn. "How was I supposed to know?"

"I didn't know _this_ Brittany, was _the_ Brittany. _Your Brittany._ " Quinn laughs with her hands up in defense and Brittany smiles at her words.

" _Your_ Brittany?" Brittany repeats with a grin and you blush.

"A girl can only hope." You mumble, and her wide smile is back. That smile, you're sure, is one of the best sights you've ever seen. It makes you feel soft and warm. It makes you feel that pull. The same pull that no one else but Brittany could ever recreate.

"Alright lovebirds," Quinn steps forward and grabs your arm, "I hate to break this party up, but we have reservations to get to, and I'm pretty sure Britt has some celebrating to do with her family."

You look at Brittany and melt at the way she's looking at you. Like there's a whole other world in you that's yet be discovered. There's so much to catch up on and you don't want to leave but you have to.

Eventually, you congratulate her on her accomplishment and let her go back to her family and friends. Quinn pulls you away, and when you get back to your group, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

 _Brittany: Tomorrow night, 7:30pm. Meet me at 18_ _th_ _and Mission._

You smile and quickly respond with, _I'll be there._

You spend the night celebrating Quinn with your friends and attempting to get more information from her about Brittany. She refuses because she claims to have received a text from Brittany, something about not sharing any personal information.

As much as that frustrates you, you knowingly smile because of course Brittany would do something like that. It makes you even more anxious for your date. You'll finally get to sit and talk with the one person who has slipped from your hands throughout your life.

You can't wait.

It's late when you get back to Quinn's apartment and after you get ready for bed, you settle into the pullout couch, thinking about all the things you want to know about your girl. As you're making your mental checklist - _because a physical one would be crazy_ \- your phone vibrates beside you. You smile as you read Brittany's message.

 _Brittany: Is it weird that I'm nervous?_

 _Santana: Only if I wasn't just as nervous, too._

 _Brittany: Okay, good. Sweet dreams, Santana._

 _Santana: Goodnight, Brittany_.


	5. Twenty-Five (Part Two)

**Chapter 5: Twenty-Five (Part Two)**

 _You found her when you were twenty-five years old._

The next morning, you're woken up to the smell of breakfast and coffee. That and the sounds of old Glee Club performances being sung in the kitchen. Your entire band of merry men have invaded Quinn's home and you wonder how you managed to sleep through all of their arrivals.

Most of the day is spent with them, exploring the city and reminiscing about the old days. Occasionally, you have to defend yourself every time someone states how much of a bitch you were back then. Your friends also spend a good amount of time teasing you about your _imaginary girlfriend_ that they thought didn't exist until both Mercedes and Tina finally saw her that night at the club.

When they tease you about how smitten you are you don't even try fighting them on it because you can't help but feel lucky to have found her again.

As dinner plans are being decided on, you excuse yourself and make your way back to Quinn's apartment to get ready for your date. You realize quickly that you don't know what you're supposed to wear, and you send a quick text to Brittany to ask. She tells you dress nicely but comfortable and to also maybe bring a jacket.

Once you're satisfied that you look presentable but still cozy and not homeless chic, you take a taxi to the location of Brittany's choosing. The air is slightly nippy, and you're glad Brittany suggested the jacket.

"You look beautiful, Santana." A voice from behind you speaks, and you turn around to find Brittany standing there. You can't explain it, but every time you see her, your heart leaps out of your chest. Her cheeks are tinted pink from the cold air and you have to fight the urge to reach out to warm them. "Are you ready?" She smiles at you and you nod.

"Lead the way."

She reaches for your hand and laces your fingers together before leading you to a small hole in the wall restaurant. It wasn't what you were expecting but Brittany doesn't stop and instead walks straight through a door in the back and into a short hallway. You follow her up a flight of stairs and through a few more doors before walking out onto a patio with a small number of tables set up for dining.

There are already a few people seated and eating, and she walks you to a table near the back corner. String lights hang above you, illuminating the small space and you can hear soft music being played through some speakers.

"I hope this is okay." She says softly as she pulls out your chair for you and you blush at how gentlemanly she's being.

"Brittany, this is amazing. You didn't have to do all this. I'm the one that asked you out." You smile at her when she takes her seat across from you. She just shakes her head at you in response.

"You deserve it." She says shyly, and you can't help but look at her softly. The pink on her cheeks make an appearance again and she turns away to wave to the man at the front. He nods before disappearing behind a doorway. When he returns, he's holding a small basket and sets it in front of you.

"Everything is already ordered." Brittany tells you quietly, "Don't be mad, but I checked with Quinn on what you like. I just wanted this to be perfect."

"Brittany…" you breathe and look up to see shy eyes. You can't even bring yourself to be upset at the fact that she went against her own words and asked Quinn about you because now you want to marry her. You're sure of it. It's only been about 10 minutes into your first date with Brittany and you already want to marry her because placed before you is a basket of breadsticks and you're completely swooning.

Conversation takes over easily from there and it's more or less a quick-fire session of the basic questions. Favorite foods, colors, animals, books, anything.

Over dinner, you talk about your friends, and how Glee Club was basically the highlight of your high school career. You talk about your friends, and how you don't know where you'd be without them.

She talks briefly about Quinn, and how she met her in the library studying for finals. She tells you about her younger brother who's going to college in New York, and her parents that live in Seattle.

Over dessert, you talk about LA and compare it to how different it is from SF. The pace, the people and most importantly, the food. You learn that she's been living in SF for six years now, because of college, but she doesn't know if it's the right place for her to plant her feet and grow some roots.

You resist the urge to offer LA as a viable option.

It's a losing battle when you attempt to fight with her on the bill because once the leather jacket arrives, she opens it slightly to show you that her credit card is already in the sleeve and all she has to do is sign. She must've handed her card to the waiter when you weren't looking. Her confidence is definitely back when she winks and tells you that you'll pay for the next date.

Once you make your way back out onto the street, you thank her for the amazing meal and she easily reaches for your hand, holding it again as you walk side by side down the road. You don't think you're going anywhere, just strolling casually under the lights of the shop signs and city street lights. You stop by a nearby coffee shop to get something to keep you both warm and this time you refuse to let Brittany pay. You do have to clarify that the coffees don't count toward the second date though.

"So, where does young Brittany dancing in a small Lima studio fit into everything?" You ask, once you're back outside. It's subtle, but you notice her take a steadying breath. It makes you pause, interpreting her reaction as slight hesitation. You weren't expecting her to respond in that way because you had always thought of dancing as a being a big part of who she is.

"Well, we lived a few towns away from Lima. I took to dancing early as a child and my Aunt Sue in Lima was the one to notice my potential." Brittany starts but you stop her quickly, your ears perking up at the familiar name.

"Sue?" You turn to her and she smiles. "As in _Coach Sue_?" She nods, and you finally start to make sense of a few things. You always thought it was weird how Sue had acted towards Brittany and the way she held on to your letter for so long. Because you know Sue and you know she would never do that for just anyone.

"She suggested to my parents that they sign me up at this new up and coming studio." Her eyes glance sideways to yours, a small twitch on the corner of her lips.

"My abuela's studio. Where we met." You smile knowingly.

"They used to drive me an hour every Saturday to take me there. After a few years, I could tell they were getting worn out, especially after my brother was born, so I asked to move to a closer studio, in our town. It was a lot smaller, but the owner there had all sorts of connections and I got to be exposed to more varieties of dance than just ballet."

"That's pretty cool." You tell her carefully, slightly confused because the way she's telling it is making it seem like it's a sad story.

"It was, at first. Back then, I fell in love with dancing. It was so carefree." She smiles softly, sadly, "but after a while, it became a chore. My parents would be relentless in my training. They wanted me to be the best. It wasn't until I was in high school when I realized that all my hard work was more for them than it was for me."

You can tell she's not comfortable with her words because her voice comes out a little shaky, so you stop walking and face her. You don't know this side of her yet. This sad, nervous side. You're not sure what to do so you wait, allowing her time to gather her thoughts.

"Sorry." She mumbles, and you give the hand you're holding a soft squeeze. "I don't know why I'm getting all emotional about this, now. I guess I just haven't talked about it in so long."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." You try to offer but she shakes her head.

"No," she straightens her back, "You deserve an explanation for what happened."

You nod in response, realizing this must be about the time you saw her in high school. She wants to explain why she disappeared. Why she wrote the letter. She turns to walk, seemingly in a purposeful direction this time and soon enough you reach a park with pathways and benches, park lamps softly illuminating the grounds. You let her lead you down one of the pathways as you both take in the soft sounds of the surrounding nightlife.

"I found out my parents sent some of my dance videos to pretty much every performing arts high school in the country, hoping for one of them to take me under their wing." She frowns, "We may not have been that well off, so I get why my parents pushed for better opportunities, but I loved my life in Ohio. I was only then just finding my stride and I didn't want to leave so close to the end of the school year. Not when I was the captain of two teams, I had people depending on me. I mean, I was even academically at top of my class."

"Because you're a genius." You joke to break the tension and it works. She turns to you, rolling her eyes with a smile. A genuine smile.

"I'm not a genius, Santana." She laughs lightly. "Anyways, one of the Academy's reached out and offered me a full-ride scholarship."

"That's amazing, Brittany." You tell her, but she shakes your head and you look at her questioningly.

"It was all the way in Seattle. They wanted us to move literally across the country in as little as a month. My parents didn't even give me a say. I was so mad at them. All I wanted was a normal childhood, but they didn't care."

"So that's why you weren't at nationals." You say, and she nods, frowning a little.

"I was miserable. I thought I'd never see any of my friends again." Her eyes look to you, "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

You think back and finally understand the reason for her letter. Why she didn't want you to look for her. To wait for her. You remember how miserable you were in the years following and almost feel guilty at the thought. You were miserable because you were pinning after a girl, but Brittany, she was miserable because she had to leave her whole life behind.

"I must sound like the biggest brat right now, oh my god." She rolls her eyes playfully and you shake your head, "Most kids would've killed to get into a school like that and I was so ungrateful."

"No," You grab her hand and she looks at you as if she's challenging you to disagree, "Okay, sure it's a great opportunity but that doesn't matter if it's not what you wanted. You're allowed to be sad that you fell out of love with something that used to bring you joy." You try to comfort her.

She smiles at you like she's glad you understand. "I think once we officially made the move, I kind of resented dancing. I was never the same to my parents after that. My relationship with my brother fell apart because to him, I was the reason he lost all his friends too. I wasn't dancing for myself anymore and I was so unhappy."

You want to hold her. You wish you knew all these years that she struggled with this. You can't imagine how alone she must've felt. But thinking about where she is now, you know she found a way to be happy again. To do something she truly _loves_. You wonder how she got there.

"So, you turned to computers…" You joke because computer science really does seem like a random jump from dancing. She laughs at that and you smile at the sound.

"Calculators actually," She blushes, ducking her head, and you arch an eyebrow, "In high school, I saw this video on the internet where this guy programmed the game Snake onto his graphing calculator and from then on I was hooked. Every second of my free time was spent learning to code."

"Brittany…" You can't stop the wide smile that forms across your face, "Brittany, that is possibly the most adorably nerdy thing I've ever heard in my entire life." You laugh and watch as the blush grows to the tips of her ears. "But it's cute. I love it."

"Yeah?" She looks at you like she's nervous again. Like she's worried you might not like her anymore because she isn't what you expected her to be. You can't understand why though. She's amazing. Everything about her is amazing.

"Yeah, Britt." You tell her, throwing in the nickname that you've heard everyone but you use. She notices because she turns her head to you, showing off a big goofy grin. It makes you blush, so you pivot the conversation. "So, if you were in SF all this time, how is it that we ran into each other in LA?"

"Oh," She laughs, "A few of us students were sent to down there to attend a CS conference. I don't know why but I really felt like dancing that night. No one else wanted to go but I managed to hit up some old contacts of mine from my dancing days. That's how we all got in." She chuckles, "And also why no one else looked dressed for the club. They didn't exactly pack for the occasion."

"But you did?" You question, smiling.

"Oh, I always make sure to pack a good party dress." She says as if it's obvious. "Dancing may not have been something written for me career-wise, but once the pressure was off, it became a lot more enjoyable for me again. I don't really tell my parents that though. I don't want to give them anymore reason to be disappointed in me."

You shake your head, "Look at how much you've accomplished. You graduated from a top performing arts high school, then completely switch tracks during college and still came out of it with a master's degree in Computer Science, at 25, _with honors_. That's not easy to do. No ordinary person can just do that. Your parents are insane if they're not proud of you."

At your words, Brittany's eyes glisten in the low light and the smile she gives you is so genuine. "Well, it took them awhile but eventually once they saw that this was really important to me, they were on board. It also helped that I was always on the Dean's List." She laughs awkwardly, like she's trying not to sound too braggy.

"I don't know how many times I have to say it. You're a genius, Britt." You pause, smirking, "and maybe a little bit of a nerd." You tell her, and she gasps playfully.

"You're one to talk, Santana," Brittany laughs, "I've heard all about the comic book collection." Your mouth drops open and you stop walking, completely speechless. She shrugs easily and turns to face you, "Quinn may have provided me with more information than I asked for."

"I'm gonna kill that bitch." You fume and Brittany giggles.

"No, it's cute." She smiles, "I love it."

You soften at the way she mimics your words earlier and you both smile knowingly. It's a comfortable silence between the two of you and you use the opportunity to once again take in all that is Brittany S. Pierce. She must know what you're doing, probably due to the fact that you do it every time you see her, because she blushes lightly.

"Am I," she ducks her head to hide her blush, "Am I what you expected?"

"Not at all." You tell her, and her eyes look up to meet yours curiously, "But at the same time, you're also everything that I expected. I don't know how to explain it."

She smiles. "My body wakes up." She says softly, "When I'm near you, my body, it just _knows_ you. Even though technically we barely know each other."

"It's like," You nod, "like we've only been given glimpses all these years and now we're finally able to fill in the blanks." You smile at the thought. You've looked at every incident as a missed opportunity but now, maybe it was so much more than that.

"Maybe we just weren't ready for each other all those other times." Brittany whispers and this time it's you who's blushing at the way she put into words what you were thinking.

"Maybe the universe was on our side all along." You state and at your words, Brittany looks at you in a new special way that makes you forget how to breathe. You take a shaky breath and wonder if you'll always react this way every time she looks at you like this.

Brittany's eyes pull you in easily and you silently wonder if she might be a sort of siren, all these years of luring you in with sparkling eyes and soft lip twitches. Her eyes flutter down to your lips before locking back with yours. Now, her eyes a darker shade of blue, reminiscent of the night you danced with her in the LA club.

"I'm really glad I kissed you yesterday," Brittany breathes, "because I was really scared that the universe was gonna separate us again."

"But it didn't." You tell her. "I told you, Pierce, we're meant to be."

"Does that mean that I get to kiss you again?" She asks stepping forward until your faces are inches apart, "but this time, like there's no one watching?" Her words fall onto your lips and when you nod, she leans in to close the distance.

Her lips move easily with yours and her arms wrap around your neck, pulling you even closer. You're sure now that you'll never get use to the way she steals your breath. You're also sure that never want to experience a kiss without feeling that.

When her tongue pokes out slightly, asking for access, you immediately grant it. She hums at the taste of cinnamon and coffee and you revel in the sweet taste of caramel. It doesn't take long before the passing vehicles start honking and the drunken patrons stumbling from a nearby bar start hollering.

Reluctantly, you pull away and Brittany is breathing heavily. You smirk, knowing that maybe this time you're the one that's stealing breaths. You continue to look into her eyes with so much admiration. Your hands caressing hers, she softens to your touch.

"What is it?" She whispers, shifting shyly under your gaze.

You smile, "It's just," you shake your head in disbelief, "after everything, I can't believe it." You tell her, "I can't believe I finally found you."

-fin-


End file.
